


The Good Life

by My_Write_Life



Category: Some crossovers - Fandom, teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Derek has a good day, M/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 18:03:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29904984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/My_Write_Life/pseuds/My_Write_Life
Summary: The Basement has given me too many sad feels so I wanted to write Derek just having a good and easygoing life. Derek works in an office, hates his boss (its Peter) who likes to tattle to Derek's mother all the time and he has age appropriate friends. There is a guy he's into...like a lot. That's going pretty well and he might even get a cat. All in all Derek's got a pretty sweet life.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 6
Kudos: 21





	The Good Life

**Author's Note:**

> If you've read The Basement and it's made you too sad because of Derek's everything or I'd you've watched canon and think Derek got the short end of the stick then you are in for a treat. This is pure slice of life goodness for our often abused and hurt Derek.

It's not like Derek chose to be late for work it's just that he'd hadn't slept well the night before, he did hear his alarm and thought that he'd _snoozed_ it but apparently he had slammed just a bit too hard and broke his alarm clock. Again.

"This is beginning to become a problem." He says as he snags a doughnut from the opened box on his counter and rushes out the door.

In his slippers again.

"Damnit."

It's a good thing hes got a spare war of shoes in his car otherwise he'd have to deal with fuzzy slippers in the office again and the embarrassment from the first time that had happened was enough, thank you very much.

As it is he's hoping that his fuzzy sleep socks won't be visible at all as he wedges his feet into his brown shoes at the first red light, he's covered in doughnut crumbs, sugary bits that will make him sticky if he doesnt hit the bathroom to dust off first thing.

It's a long late morning and Derek is holding onto hope that his boss isnt in the office yet, being the nephew of the head honcho might give most people a little bit of leeway but Peter's a jerk all around and would give him the worst time about being late again. Last time he'd told Derek's mother and that hadn't gone well at all.

'Derek, sweetheart, you're thirty three years old get it together,' was not something he needed to hear again.

He hits every red light on the way to work and swings into the nearest parking space, he almost loses his wallet as he jumps out of his car to sprint to the doors and he groans at the out of order signs on the elevators.

So he jogs up the stairs for four flights, pushes his way into the office and pretends that he isnt noticed coming in a whole hour and a half late to work.

Sheila at the front desk shakes her curly red head and Barney at the water cooler gives him a lopsided grin good morning, business as usual. 

He thinks that he's almost made it but when he opens his office door Peter is sat on his desk holding out a coffee and a sandwich.

"You're late." He says and grins. "And sweaty. I knew those out of order signs were a good idea."

"You did that on purpose." Derek doesn't even need to ask as Peter sniggers and hands him his peace offering.

"And you keep falling for it."

Derek's Monday morning didnt start out so great but that's every Monday morning for him.

"You're a jack ass."

* * *

Data entry, billing and coding it's not glamorous work but Derek is proficient and good at it and even if he's a total failure at social situations he's gotten great at faking it over the phone. 

Still gives him butterflies and a warm hard ball of anxiety when he has to talk to anyone on his phone but with a stress ball and a deep breath he gets by okay. Its such a wild departure from the brazen fast talking schmoozing teenager he'd been when he was eighteen. What happened to that Derek?

"Knock knock." He hears a familiar bubbly tune and while he isn't such a bubbly guy himself he can appreciate his office neighbor and her exuberant hi's hello's and you betcha's.

"Hey Agnes." He pushes back from his desk, its lunch time and he's feeling a little claustrophobic today. "Where to this time?"

"Oh what's this?" She grins, play stalking into the office. "I don't have to physically haul your cute butt out of this office for lunch?"

"Peter got me today," He says and she hums and nods. "I need out."

"There's this Cuban place I am dying to try."

"We going Dutch?" Derek is already reaching for his wallet and jacket, stomach rumbling at the thought of a Cuban coffee and sandwiches.

"I got it this time, kid."

They're out the door a second later.

* * *

"A widow?" He dabs at the corner of his mouth where Agnes had pointed, his veins are singing at the added energy the coffee had given him.

Agnes twists a curly lock of dark hair before she pushes it back into her thick mass of curls.

"We've been friends ages and she has the cutest little twin boys." 

"So what's the problem? Is she still...you know..."

"Grieving?" Agnes grins at Derek for his awkwardness and leans forward a bit. "I dont think shes going to stop but, no that's not it. How about you? How's your little boy toy?"

"Are we talking about me, now?"

"Well I'm not the one with the boy toy."

"He's twenty nine in April. He's not a boy toy."

"He's a boy toy until you make if official." She taps her ring finger. "You can get matching engagement rings."

The rest of lunch is Derek, for the millionth time, trying to explain the statis of his relationship (there isn't one) to a cackling Agnes.

"You sound like a _witch_." He pushes her hands back away from his hair.

"Yeah, well."


End file.
